


Clenched Fists

by EmeryldLuk



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Break Your Heart, Flufftober, Gen, Gunshot, Spider-Man - Freeform, clenched fists, hero work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:53:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26980954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeryldLuk/pseuds/EmeryldLuk
Summary: Peter is out on an ordinary superhero night until a victim he is saving gets shot by a ricochet bullet and he rushes her to the hospital.
Kudos: 6





	Clenched Fists

Peter sat on top of the apartment building at the corner of Fifth and Madison, feet hanging over the edge and his mask off to eat a loaded BLT from the deli two blocks over. He didn’t like the taste of the bread, but he hadn’t eaten since lunch and it was way past dinner.

Shortly after leaving school, he’d stopped a bicycle thief and found one of his frantic classmates having a panic attack over the loss of their transportation. Ryan Travis, he thought the kid’s name had been. They never talked in class, so he wasn’t sure, but Ryan had almost broke down crying on him upon the return of the bike. Peter wondered if Ryan might be in need of a new friend.

He saved a kid from being hit by a car, helped a lady change a flat tire, rescued a cat out of a tree, caught someone about to rob a store, and stopped a runaway car. It had been a busy day.

A scream caught his attention. The sandwich dropped, abandoned in a heartbeat. The mask went back on as he jumped off the roof and shot a line of web across the street.

Through the alley he flew. He sprung off the wall to make a tight turn, flipped in the air and landed feet first on the dumpster.

“Don’t you know it’s wrong to hurt a lady?” he quipped to the scrappy man holding a gun point blank at a skimpily dressed woman. The man looked as if he hadn’t seen a shower or shave in a couple of weeks and his hands shook from nerves or drugs; Peter couldn’t tell.

“This ain’t any of your business, Spider-creep,” the mugger said, eyes darting from the lady to Peter.

“It’s Spider-man, and it’s my business now. Why don’t we put down the gun and talk about this?” Peter slowly stepped down off the dumpster.

“Talk? Oh no, I’m not going back to jail.” The mugger turned and fired on Peter. Peter flipped and jumped out of the way, dodging every bullet with ease. He spun and fired a couple of quick shots of web to gum up the gun and fix the mugger’s foot to the cement.

The mugger tried to shoot again, but the gun refused to fire with webbing in the works. Peter webbed up the mugger’s arms and stuck him to the wall.

“I’m sure someone will find you soon with all noise. Now, M’am, are you alright?” Peter trailed off as he turned around and saw the lady holding her hand over a growing blood stain on her stomach. She started to falter.

Peter caught her before she could fall. “No, no. What- How,” he stammered, eyes scanning for some explanation. He saw the dents in the dumpster: dents, not holes.

“Hold on. I’ll get you to the hospital. Just hold on please.”

Cradling her carefully with one arm, Peter soared upward on a line of webbing. The lady groaned, obviously bothered by the swift motions. He could feel his heart pounding like a bass drum in his chest.

Peter landed at the hospital and dashed past the automatic doors. “Help, I need help.”

Several people already waiting in the lobby looked over to see the cause of the commotion. Peter kept moving, ignore the looks of shock and awe, yelling for a doctor until a team of nurses ran through the double doors with a gurney.

“She’s been shot,” Peter explained, laying the now unconscious woman on her back.

“Did this just happen?” One of the nurses asked. The other checked for a heartbeat. Peter nodded, not sure how to explain it was his fault.

The nurse was then asking if the lady could hear him, only getting vague incomprehensible responses.

“We’ll take it from here,” The other said. “Wait here.”

Peter nodded as they wheeled back through the double doors.

He sat in a chair. An attendant brought him a wet cloth to wipe the blood off. A little boy asked for a picture. Peter agreed, though his heart wasn’t in it. At least no one would see how broken he felt.

He paced. Minutes ticked by, crawling like snails in the mud. He wanted to charge in and demand to know how she was. A pair of teenage girls escorting their grandfather pestered him for an autograph. They borrowed a pen and pad of paper from the receptionist.

He sat again, clenching his hands tight in his lap. He couldn’t help but keep replaying the brief fight in his head. Why hadn’t he noticed sooner? What had gone wrong? He should’ve done better.

“Spider-man,” a doctor said, mass of neatly woven dreads tucked under a wrap for the moment. “About the woman you brought in.”

“Is she okay?” he blurted, jumping to his feet.

“She’s unconscious and lost a lot of blood, but stable. I’m sorry to ask this, but do you know who she is? We’d like to notify her family.”

Peter shook his head, starting to apologize, but stopped short. “I don’t but I can find out. Thank you for saving her.”

“It’s what we do, same as you.”

Peter all but ran out of the hospital. The mugger was gone, probably taken away by the police, but Peter didn’t want that guy. He ran up and down the block, asking everyone he saw if they knew the woman. He had no clue what time it was when he finally met three ladies dressed to kill that said the description was familiar.

Relieved to have passed on the news, Peter decided to head home. It was super late and he hoped Aunt May wasn’t still up waiting for him.


End file.
